


The Other Woman

by lady_macgyver



Category: Doctor Who (2005), The Politician's Husband
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-25 19:19:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6207286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_macgyver/pseuds/lady_macgyver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Prime Minister, if I had wanted to go to the tabloids and exploit you or Aiden don’t you think I would have already done so?” Donna’s words were curt, her eyes narrowed. “After all, I have been working for Aiden for nearly two years now.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Other Woman

Someone had sent them through interoffice mail. Glossy 8 by 10s now spread below her on her desk, some in color, and some in black and white. They all showed the same couple in various poses – none of them sexual. She nearly thanked God for that but her thoughts were tight and focused.

_His hand on her back._

_Her lips near his ear._

_His arm casually slung around her waist, holding her close._

_Out to dinner, a glass of wine to her lips as she smirked at him._

There were others but Freya focused on these four. These causally explicit photos of her marriage in ruin. England was prospering under her, but her marriage was thrown aside, a victim of circumstance long before she had become Prime Minister.

And now she had proof.

Taking in a deep breath she stood slowly, her limbs feeling heavy. Pushing away from the desk, she put the phots back into the manila envelope they arrived in and slid them into her top drawer and then walked out of her office. Her assistant looked up at her as she stepped past and she waved her off.

“I just need to clear my head.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Keeping her head high she walked through the halls and then stopped, nearly lurching in her own steps as she saw a flash of red ahead. She could recognize her anywhere now, images of her stuck in her mind. Speeding up, Freya stopped outside the ladies room, her hand on the door. She attempted to reason with herself, saying it is too soon to confront her. Except, someone was walking up the corridor and with a little nod she swept into the room and locked the door behind her.

Heart thumping, she waited. The stalls only showed one closed and no one was at the sinks. This bathroom had a lock and she fumbled with it, hearing the small click. Hearing the toilet flush she stood straighter, stared ahead, attempting a hard mask as she kept her mouth in check.

“Oh, hello Prime Minister.”

The words, the title, it all made Freya feel a little sick. But damn it, she _is_ the Prime Minister; wife of Aiden Hoynes, mother of Noah and Ruby Hoynes. Her mantra stuck in her head, she turned to look at Donna slowly, mouth in a straight line.

“Ms. Noble.”

From her vantage point she could see Donna stand straighter after washing her hands, taking down the paper towels. She wore a simple grey skirt suit, the hint of blue from her shirt underneath bringing it all together.

In her own clothes, Freya felt herself slipping. She too wore a skirt suit, but suddenly it felt frumpy and constricting, it’s color too drab. Composing herself, she planted her back against the door and schooled her face.

“I received some interesting items in the mail today.”

“Oh?”

Nothing was betrayed in Donna’s voice and Freya clenched her teeth. With a deep breath in through her nose, she nodded. “Oh yes, it appears that my husband has been enjoying himself outside of work.”

There it was, a small tremble of her hands. Freya allowed herself to give a little smirk. Confident now, she barged on. “Do _you_ know anything about his after work exploits?”

Gaping, Donna took in a deep breath, her face reddening. The stain seemed to go down her neck and for a moment Freya thought she would pass out. Instead, she closed her eyes and put one hand on a sink. “I do.”

Having expected a fight, Freya stumbled over her next thoughts. She hadn’t expected Donna to just agree right away. Where was the denial? Where was the accusations?

“You bitch,” she finally breathed out. Startled at her own words, Freya kept her glare in check. “You utter _bitch_.” The words kept flowing now and she shook with her own vitriol. “My husband, the father of my children. What? Did you think it would make a good tabloid story? Grab a chunk of money for your tell-all book, how you fucked the Deputy Prime Minister while his wife was down the hall?” Her voice rang over the walls, coming back in a small whisper.

Donna no longer looked scared or upset. Instead, her face was blank, eyes hollow as she allowed Freya’s words to spill around them. “I see.”

The simple sentence made her pause. “What exactly do you see?”

“Prime Minister, if I had wanted to go to the tabloids and exploit you or Aiden don’t you think I would have already done so?” Donna’s words were curt, her eyes narrowed. “After all, I have been working for Aiden for nearly two years now.”

The meaning of the words didn’t fall flat. Her heart began to pound again, her eyes widened in recognition. Her cheeks suddenly stung and felt hot.

Watching Donna walk up to her, she scrambled away from the door. Feeling a paper towel thrust into her hands, she took a deep breath as Donna looked at her. “At least now you know.” Clicking the door unlocked, the other woman slipped out the door.

Staring at the paper in her hands, she furrowed her brow until a droplet of water hit. Startled, she brought her fingers to her face, finding herself crying.

++

The pictures were arranged around the coffee table for him. Freya sat on the sofa, a glass of wine in hand, and her eyes on the wall. She could see him from the corner of her eye, chest puffing at the pictures. He would pick one of, stare at it, and then put it down before doing the same with another.

She wanted to yell and scream at him but instead she just sat there, feeling slumped over. No longer able to cry, her eyes and face still felt matted and sticky from the tears. As the sofa dipped as he sat, holding the picture of them out to eat in both hands, she finally turned to look at him.

“I hope you’re not expecting an apology,” he got out before she could say anything. Aiden’s mouth was set in a line, lips pinched. “Because I have nothing to be sorry for.”

“Excuse me?” she hissed, sitting up straight. “ _Nothing_ to be sorry for?” The repeated words fell from her lips. “You’re fucking your secretary and you have _nothing_ to be sorry for?”

They were standing now, glaring at one another. Aiden’s eyes were half-lidded, his breathing slow while Freya’s was labored, her eyes wide.

“Let me remind you,” he finally hissed, taking a step back from her. “What you told me when you were elected. You _told me_ that we were only now together as a partnership, a political partnership. Our marriage was merely a contract – a fucking piece of paper, and that you don’t love me anymore but politically you need me.”

Those weren’t her exact words and she wanted to scream that to him. She wanted to tell him that she had said those things without thinking them through. That she does still love him and that she wants this to be a marriage of love and friendship and partnership.

But even as she thought them they turned dry on her tongue. There would be no truth behind them once they left her mouth and she knew he knew that.

“Fine,” she finally breathed out. “But I want you to stop seeing.”

Chuckling darkly, Aiden shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. I’m not going to stop seeing her just because you’re upset. Go out and find yourself someone, I don’t care. But damned if I’m going to stop seeing Donna just because you decided to jump on a high horse.”

“What if this gets out?”

“So what if it does? Others have dealt with this, so what? Hell, most people in the Party probably already know something is going on somehow, especially if these pictures have something to do with either the Opposition or a disgruntled Party member.”

Working her jaw Freya felt her fingers tremble. Everything she thought they were and could be was being flung away.

“So you’re basically saying we’ll deal with it when it comes up.”

“ _If_ it comes up,” he suddenly growled, glaring over her shoulder.

She knew that look he had and she swallowed, slumping on the sofa. “What are you going to do?”

His nostrils flared and he shrugged. “I need to make a few phone calls.”

Watching him walk away Freya swallowed against the lump forming in her throat. Taking a slow breath, she lifted her chin high. “Aiden!”

He slowly turned to look at her, eyebrow raised. “Yes?”

“Don’t think we’re finished with this,” she heard herself snap out.

“Oh, the thought never entered my mind.”

 


End file.
